i wish i knew that you cared. i wish, not only that i knew, but that i was certain, that i was vibrating out of my skin with the certainty in every fiber of my bones that you cared about me and this friendship.
i wished that you still came to me, with the trivial things, with the miniscule things. i wish we could joke about guys together, and that we could cry about our wavering faith together. i wish we could sing together louder than usual because we know we’ll probably never do it in an organized setting ever again. i wish that we could stuff our faces together because it’s one of the only things we’re good at. i wish we could be shameful together and i wish we could be bashful and i wish we could be beautiful and i wish we could be ourselves. but you won’t let me in anymore and i don’t know that you care, even when you say it. and that’s why i can’t stop being like this. i can’t stop being like this.